


The Wedding Hook-Up

by easemyworriedmind



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: First Kiss, First Time, M/M, Wedding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-13 22:58:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16481354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/easemyworriedmind/pseuds/easemyworriedmind
Summary: “We weren’t close,” Barba says and immediately regrets it. Sonny’s face falls a little. He didn’t mean to do that. As much as Sonny says too much sometimes, Barba can admit he can be a little mindlessly cruel.Sonny shakes it off though. “We were for a little while, right?”Barba tips his glass back and forth, “Yeah, for a little while.” He wants to ask what changed, but he’s not sure Sonny knows. Because he doesn’t. One minute they were working on cases together, the next they barely spoke except to argue.





	1. Chapter 1

Amanda marries the cardiologist and actually has a pretty sizable wedding. It's Al's money and a lot of his friends and Sonny thinks it's decidedly unlike Amanda but he's happy for her if she’s happy. She looks happy. She’s glowing and her hair’s done up in all these small twisted braids. Jessie looks adorable in her light blue flower girl dress. Even Kim has been holding it together in her navy bridesmaids gown. Sonny tears up as Amanda makes her way down the aisle but he doesn't even feel embarrassed because when he looks over Olivia and Finn are misty too.

It's only at the reception that he realizes Barba must have been there the whole time. He just wasn’t sitting up front with them. Maybe somewhere in the back? Slipping in late, with plans to slip out early. 

Sonny spots him through the parting crowd as if it's an illusion. He just so happens to look back at the entrance to the banquet hall as he's grabbing a beer from the open bar and he catches a slip of bright pink by the door. Barba is standing alone. Dark gray suit. The pink is his shirt and matching tie. He's holding a card and looking for a place to put it. Sonny watches the wedding planner come up and graciously take it from him. With nothing left in his hands, Barba peeks above people's heads to look for the bar. Classic. Sonny turns away before he can get caught staring.

After a moment, he feels Barba's eyes on the back of his neck and he looks down pretending to be very into the label of his Stella Artois. He hears Finn's laugh somewhere to his left. A server walks past and offers him a salmon cake and a napkin which he declines. Barba sidles up next to him at the bar, close but not too close. He raises one hand and tells the bartender he'll take a Johnnie Walker on the rocks.

Then, he turns to Sonny, patting him on the small of his back. Sonny looks up, pretending to be surprised.

"Barba! Hey!" He smiles wide, sticking out his hand for a shake. Barba takes it, smiling back. He looks relieved that Sonny seems happy to see him.

"Carisi," he replies. His drink arrives and he holds it up. They cheers. "How are you?" He says after a sip.

Sonny almost guffaws. He hasn't seen Barba since he left SVU. Since he'd basically disappeared without saying goodbye to anyone but Benson. He pauses to take him in. Barba looks good. He's lost weight. He's got a five o'clock shadow and his hair is a little longer in the front. He looks a little like he’s been on vacation which Sonny supposes he has. They weren't really friends by the time Barba took off. They had been maybe once, but something had changed in the other man (and he has to admit, maybe he’d taken on a dour demeanor himself) before he quit. The job, he supposes, got the best of both of them during that time. Not that things have necessarily gotten any better but Sonny thinks he’s got a handle on it now at least. He sees his priest and a therapist. He talks about his feelings. He’s finding his groove with the tech stuff. Barba sort of missed all of Sonny’s growth that way. He wonders what had really been going on for Barba during that time, beyond stress. Something drove them apart but he can’t really pinpoint what. Sonny feels like it's been 20 years since they worked together but it's only been one and a half. He doesn't know where to begin with Barba's question.

"Fine," he settles on. "Work is work."

Barba laughs. It's soft. Affectionate. "Your vocabulary, as always, remains spectacular."

Sonny shrugs, "Wanted to say something dumb right off the bat so you'd miss me." Barba nods. They turn their bodies outward almost at the same time, surveying the scene.

“This wedding is not what I expected of Rollins,” he says, taking in the massive amounts of flowers and white lace.

“Me either,” Sonny admits, taking a swig of beer. “You know she had another kid, right?”

“I did know,” Barba says. Sonny guesses he’s still in touch with Benson. Maybe Amanda had shot him a text when her newborn entered the world. Finn, he has no idea. But Sonny hasn’t talked to Barba at all. Barba, as always, picks up on what Sonny’s implying.

“I talk to Liv,” he says. “Don’t take it personally, Carisi.”

“I’m not taking it personally,” he says, taking it personally. Barba smirks. It’s infuriating.

“You could have called me,” he replies, casual.

Sonny nods, taking another drink of beer. “I could have,” he concedes. “I wasn’t sure what to say.”

“I’d have started with ‘Hello,’” Barba jokes.

Sonny rolls his eyes. It’s quiet for a moment but Barba seems content to drink his whiskey next to Sonny in silence as the ballroom grows increasingly loud with guests.

"Don't take this the wrong way but I'm surprised Amanda invited you," Sonny says finally, putting his foot right in his mouth.

Barba smiles, "I've known her longer than you have. I think she was being polite." 

Sonny decides to go for sincere. It’s been so long since he’s seen Barba. He seems softer, somehow. Different. So far away from the man he was having screaming fights with outside courtrooms about case law. Far away from the dismissive cruel snark of his office. Far away from making Carisi feel stupid at every opportunity. ”I’m glad you came,” he says.  


Barba raises his eyebrows at him. “Your sentimentality remains intact,” he says.

“Nevermind,” Sonny sasses. “I’m not anymore.”

Just then, Liv runs over, pulling Barba into a massive hug. He chuckles, hugging her back. Finn is behind her, and he gives Barba a knuckle dab. Liv is quick to introduce her date, a dentist she met on a case they caught a while back. He’s about 10 years younger than her, which had caused a minor stir of gossip in the squadroom, but he seems nice enough. His name is either Max or Matt, Sonny has forgotten but he seems to put Olivia in a good mood and that’s really all that matters.

Just then, a DJ hops on the microphone. “Who’s ready to get down while we wait for the lovely couple to join us?” He says. He’s way too old to be a DJ. Sonny shoots Barba a look. Barba’s face is pained. 

“Wanna grab a table?” Sonny says, “I heard it’s open seating.”

Finn cuts in. “I’m gonna show some ladies my dance moves.”

Liv and Max/Matt are already back in their own world. 

Barba looks grateful for the suggestion. “Let’s grab another drink and find the furthest table from the dance floor,” he says. Sonny’s thoughts exactly.

—

The DJ introduces Amanda and Al and they do their first dance as a couple and it’s pretty sweet actually. Barba went into this with some cynicism but he is genuinely happy to see Amanda happy. He and Sonny are sitting at a table in the back, nursing their drinks. Sonny’s taken his tie off and left it on the table in front of him. Barba’s loosened his and rolled up his sleeves. It’s probably the most casual they’ve ever seen each other.

“No date,” Barba says, gesturing to Sonny.

“Wow,” Sonny says. “Rub it in, why dontcha?”

Barba laughs. “Hey. I’m alone too.”

Sonny thinks for a moment, taking a sip of his third beer. Barba watches his throat muscles move. “The whole time we worked together you never mentioned anybody or brought anybody around. You were always like, sneaking off to Broadway shows or boatings or whatever.”

Barba snorts at the word ‘boatings.’ “It was work,” he says. “Was I supposed to show off a romantic partner?”  


“Nah,” Sonny replies. “But I don’t know. We always knew who Liv was seeing or like, Amanda would eventually get pregnant and have to talk to us.”

“Oh,” Rafael says. “Well, I’m on birth control.”

Sonny shakes his head. “Yeah, me too. It’s called celibacy.”

“That’s right,” Barba smirks. “You never brought anyone around either.”

“That’s not true!” Sonny sort of shouts before stopping himself. “I mean, I mentioned like, girlfriends and stuff.”

“Not to me,” he replies, killing his drink.

Sonny squints. “You’re right. I guess not to you.”

“We weren’t close,” Barba says and immediately regrets it. Sonny’s face falls a little. He didn’t mean to do that. As much as Sonny says too much sometimes, Barba can admit he can be a little mindlessly cruel.

Sonny shakes it off though. “We were for a little while, right?”

Barba tips his glass back and forth, “Yeah, for a little while.” He wants to ask what changed, but he’s not sure Sonny knows. Because he doesn’t. One minute they were working on cases together, the next they barely spoke except to argue. 

“Would you wanna, I don’t know, start over maybe? Talk about law stuff. Play darts. Get drinks,” he looks hopeful. Barba wonders how he can possibly be a cop when his emotions are so written all over his face.

“We could do that,” he allows. 

Sonny smiles. “Cool,” he says, picking up another beer.

—-

Five beers and three scotches in and he and Sonny still haven’t moved from sitting in the back together alone. It’s really weird. The conversation's been easy though and Barba actually finds he’s enjoying himself. 

Eventually, a fast song comes on that Barba doesn't recognize but it makes Sonny's whole face erupt in delight. "I love this one!" He says, bouncing in his seat and starting to sing. He might as well be an alien from the way Barba looks at him. He imagines Sonny singing to himself in the car, or pumping himself up before a date. Singing while cooking or in the shower. Barba quickly rearranges his features back to neutral.

People rush the dance floor. Barba wonders if he should try listening to the radio more often. He feels old.

"Do you want to dance?" Barba asks. He meant did Sonny want to take off and dance with everyone else but Sonny misinterprets it as Barba, you know, asking him to dance and he looks a little shocked but then quickly recovers, reaching a hand out to Barba. 

Barba realizes too late what's happening. But then Sonny's got a grip on his hand and he's dragging him up and to the dance floor. Liv and her date are already there and Sonny and Barba join them in a little circle. Liv's date knows the song too. Liv doesn't. She and Barba make eye contact across the group and they shrug at each other. He's happy to have another fogie to commiserate with. Liv shifts her gaze toward Carisi and back to him and raises her brows. Barba shakes his head. Liv rolls her eyes. Barba smirks. Liv raises her brows again. He gets what she's implying. In what world does Rafael Barba get on the dance floor at a wedding? In what world does he get dragged to that dance floor by Carisi holding his hand? Liv's asking all the right questions. 

Neither Carisi nor Liv's date are paying any attention to them. Barba crosses the circle and nudges Liv’s shoulder, smiling. He’s looking at her when Carisi unexpectedly reaches between them and grabs Barba's hand lifting their hands above their heads and twirling him before Barba realizes what he's doing. Liv claps. Carisi is laughing, throwing his head back. Barba understands the cue is for him to move more, not just sway in the circle. Just because he doesn't like to dance doesn't mean he isn't a good dancer. 

He turns toward Carisi and puts his hands on the other man’s hips, pulling him into him. Carisi goes willingly, moving to the music more than caring that he’s being touched by Barba it seems like. He throws his hands easily over Barba's shoulders, shuffling into him. Barba slots their hips together without leaning in too much and starts actually dancing, moving them together in a way that's still meant to be mostly playful rather than sexy. It's a little awkward because of their height difference but then Barba's swaying his hips bringing Carisi's flailing limbs with him, dancing them in circles in front of Liv and Liv’s date. When he pulls back to look at him, Carisi is still laughing wildly, seeming really pleased with the silliness of Barba actually dancing. He pulls some sort of swing dancing move, pushing Barba away and then twirling him back in to his chest. Barba catches Liv's eye. 

"I can't believe you wanted to dance!" Sonny yells over the music, leaning into his ear. He smells like beer.

Barba laughs. "I didn't!" He yells back. "You misunderstood me!"

Carisi looks a little embarrassed but then recovers. "Well, you're getting into it."

Barba rolls his eyes, "You dance like a cool uncle."

"I am a cool uncle!" He says, shimmying a little like a dork.

Barba pulls back from him and does a disco move that makes Carisi almost choke on his own saliva. 

“Who are you and what have you done with Rafael Barba?” Liv yells over the music. Barba just keeps dancing.

—

Later, he stands next to Liv at the bar and she pokes him with her elbow. 

"So," she says.

Barba sips his newly acquired fourth scotch. "So what?”

“What’s up there?” She says, gesturing to Carisi who is standing a few feet away telling Liv’s date about some video game he absolutely has to get.

Barba scowls. “Nothing is up there,” he sighs. “Come on. It’s Carisi. Carisi. Remember him? He works for you. He’s straight. He’s as Catholic as a confessional.”

Liv puts up a hand in surrender. “Ok,” she says. “I’m just surprised you’re spending so much time together here.”

“Me too,” he admits. “We’re catching up.”

Liv’s red wine appears and she thanks the bartender. “I think you should go for it, Rafa,” she says. “It’s a wedding.”

“Are you out of your mind?” He replies. “That’s a very bad idea.”

“Why?” She says, sipping her wine.

“It’s Carisi,” he says. He’s not sure what other reason he needs. The man has never indicated he’s anything other than straight. “We have nothing in common.”

“You’ve been talking about that nothing for two hours,” she counters.

Barba sighs. “I know you worry about me but I’m not desperate enough to chase Carisi, of all people, at a wedding.”

“You could do worse,” she says.

“Yeah, no,” he says. “I’m not looking to get rejected by a very confused straight boy this evening but thank you.”

Liv rolls her eyes.

—-

They go outside together. The smokers are all out there but they’re not there to smoke. Carisi wants to get some air. Once he notices the smokers though, he asks if they could take a walk. He wonders idly if he’s pushing it with Barba. If Barba is annoyed he’s not getting to spend that much time with anyone else. If he’s monopolizing him.

“You can go back inside if you want,” he says as they walk along the outside of the venue. Barba doesn’t stop walking. 

“I’m good out here,” he says. “Why? Do you want to be alone?”

“No,” Sonny replies. “I just don’t want to keep you from socializing.”

Barba shrugs. “Liv and Finn both seem pretty busy with their own romantic endeavors.”

Sonny pauses. He’s more than a few beers in and he wonders if he’s crossing some line by asking this, but Barba doesn’t work with them anymore and he’s always been so curious about this particular gossip.

“Can I ask you a personal question?” He starts.

Barba groans. “Oh god, it depends.”

“It’s personal,” Sonny says again.

Barba nods. “I got that.” After a moment, he concedes. “Okay, what is it?”

“Were you ever interested in the Lieu?” He asks. “Was it ever, like that?”

Barba stops walking so Sonny has to stop too. He turns and looks back at him. Barba’s face is unreadable. “Sonny,” he says. “Are you… serious?”

Sonny furrows his brow. “Uh, yeah?” He’s confused. Then, Barba starts laughing. He’s laughing so hard, he bends over and rests his hands on his knees. 

“What the fuck, Barba? Why are you laughing?” Sonny walks back over to stand in front of him.

“Sonny,” Barba says, standing upright again. “I’m gay.”

Sonny blinks twice. How did he not know that? Did everyone know except for him? Is he some sort of moron? What? What? What? 

“You’re gay?” Sonny repeats, cringing. Knowing he sounds impossibly dumb.

“We worked together for years!” Barba says, unable to stop laughing. “How did you miss that?”

“No one told me!” Sonny shouts back. “How was I supposed to know?”

Barba gestures to himself, pink shirt and pink tie. “Uh,” he says.

“Oh, I’m supposed to stereotype now?” He asks, still incredulous.

“No,” Barba says, “But you’re supposed to be a detective!”

Sonny rubs his hands over his face. He wants to fully die. 

Barba is looking at him with a sparkle in his eyes. Sonny groans, “Stop laughing.”

“This is so good,” Barba says. “This is the straightest thing that’s ever happened.”

Sonny’s cheeks are bright red. He’s never seen Barba laugh so hard. It’s actually a really pleasant sound. 

—-

They go back inside to find most people saying their goodbyes and filing out. Barba and Sonny both hug Amanda and shake Al’s hand. They gather their things and step out into the Long Island air again. 

“I, uh,” Sonny says and Barba has no idea what he’s about to ask.

“I have a room at the hotel across the street,” he says. “I figured I wouldn’t wanna go all the way back at this hour.”

Barba stares at him. “Okay,” he says, not quite getting what’s happening.

“Would you wanna have a drink up there?” Sonny asks. “I got whiskey for the room in case people wanted to hang after.”

Barba keeps staring. “Did you want to invite anyone else?”

Sonny shakes his head. “Not really, no.” Barba’s heart leaps into his throat. What is going on?

“Yeah, I’ll come up,” he says before he can stop himself. Sonny smiles, “Cool.”

—

Up in the hotel room, Sonny pours Barba some Jim Beam in a paper cup from next to the coffee maker. Barba takes it, thinking of college and house parties and the dim lighting of this hotel room compared to the dim lighting of the dorms. 

When Sonny makes his own drink, Barba notices his hands are shaking. He sits down on the bed, for lack of anywhere else to sit.

“Are you nervous about something?” He asks, taking a swig of his whiskey. Sonny finishes pouring and then sneaks a look over at Barba. 

“Uh, yeah,” he says, hesitating before sitting next to Barba, close but not too close.

“What are you nervous about?” He says again. He figures this will go in circles. Go nowhere. Sonny’s not interested in him like that. He’s reading way too much into this. They’ll probably talk some more and then he’ll take an expensive Uber home. There’s something maybe in the air, but he’s not entirely sure he isn’t projecting. This is weird, sure. But he’s still cautious about where Sonny thinks this is going. Maybe he should have just gone home. Ended this night before it got awkward. He imagines himself already back in own bed, not dealing with this unnecessary vulnerability, keeping himself safe from emotion or complex sexual situations like he always does. He could hop on Grindr and find some random in 10 minutes. Have them out the door in an hour. He doesn’t really need the whole mess that is Sonny Carisi.

“I, uh,” Sonny says, lifting his cup and shooting his drink.

“Let’s not make this weird,” Barba says, knowing full well it is already weird.

Sonny runs a hand through his hair. “I’m being weird,” he sighs. “I don’t know how to…”

“You don’t have to…” Barba starts. “Just because I said I’m gay you don’t have to…”

Sonny blinks at him. “I work SVU. I know about consent, Barba.”

“Okay so,” he replies. “It’s fine. You’re straight. You didn’t mean anything by inviting me up. Let’s just sit and drink.”

Sonny mumbles something under his breath, looking down at his empty cup. Barba leans forward. “What?”

Sonny takes a deep breath. “I said,” he pauses. “I’m not straight.”

Barba’s vision narrows. He feels partially like he didn’t want to know that. He didn’t need all the possibilities laid out at his feet right now. It was better when he didn’t have to think about it, when he didn’t consider Sonny an option. This is Carisi. Carisi. The guy falling all over himself to impress every lawyer he meets. The guy shoving cannolis in his mouth in the break room, giving everyone opinions no one asked for. The fucking mustache. But as he looks at him, he knows he’s kidding himself. Sonny is light years away from that guy. He’s someone else entirely. It’s like Barba doesn’t know him. He doesn’t want to think about Carisi not being straight. This is big fat trouble.

All he manages to say is: “Okay, what?”

Carisi heaves another sigh, and he looks up at Barba. “I am not straight,” he says definitively. Then, insecure again: “So did you maybe want to… make out or something?”

Oh, there’s Carisi again. Pure Carisi. Awkward. Looking to Barba for approval. Literally fluttering his eyelashes.

Barba has about 1,000 questions. He feels like maybe he is in shock. He feels sober. He has that anxious weightless feeling he gets when he realizes he’s about to lose a case. Everything seems fuzzy and unreal.

Carisi leans in, and Barba finds himself leaning in too. “Okay?” Carisi asks, flickering his eyes from Barba’s lips to meet his gaze. Barba nods a little and then he’s the one closing the gap between them. Carisi tastes like beer. This is by far the strangest turn of events Barba’s ever experienced. He’s a good kisser and he opens his mouth for Barba’s tongue and nips at his lower lip and groans prettily. His breath is hot on Barba’s face. 

When they part, Sonny’s breathing hard into Barba’s mouth. “You’re not saying anything,” he whispers.

“You’ve managed to dumbfound me, detective,” he says, honest now. Because why not be? This seems to be actually happening.

Sonny brings his hands up to Barba’s collar, gripping it to drag him closer. “You can cross examine me tomorrow,” he says, practically against Barba’s lips. Barba slides his hands around Sonny’s waist, gripping him hard. Insistent and back in control, but he does laugh softly, actually smirking into another kiss.


	2. The Hotel Hook-Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sonny swallows, scooting his legs back so he’s more lying on top of Barba than sitting. He really doesn’t want to talk anymore so he leans down and licks a stripe from the base of Barba’s neck to under his ear, tipping the other man’s head back. He drops his hips and grinds them up against Barba’s, undulating them in an unmistakable implication. Barba groans and tenses up, moving against him, with him. He doesn’t know if Barba’s a bottom or a switch or what. Not that he thinks they’ll fuck tonight. But maybe they will? Sonny really needs to get out of his own head.

They roll around on the hotel bed fully dressed for what feels like hours but is probably only ten minutes. 

Sonny eventually ends up on top, straddling Barba’s hips as they keep making out, one kiss spilling directly into another, going from soft bites to long strokes of tongues against each other back to flicks against bottom lips. Whenever Barba tries to pull back, Sonny opens his mouth, not wanting to break the spell around them. If he can just keep kissing him, he thinks, maybe they can stay lost in this beautiful and safe gray area.

It's probably been about three months since Sonny's hooked up with anyone. Normally, he’d have hopped on Tinder by now. Found some girl to take on a few dates, maybe have sex with. Occasionally -- more rarely -- he’d head down to Chelsea, try to meet a guy in a bar who didn’t skeeve him out. He’d had girlfriends in the last few years, and he’d had a couple guys he could rely on after a late night text. But no boyfriends. It’d never been that serious with men. He found women easier to date. Less complicated.

But Rafael Barba lived in this strange space in Sonny’s head. Aside from being an incredible legal mentor, he was also just a fascinating person. Unlike anyone Sonny had ever met. Infuriating. Arrogant. Difficult. Then also: tenacious. Discerning. Brilliant. Sonny couldn't get a handle on him at all: He equally oozed sex, but also seemed somehow above it. 

Eventually, Barba’s hands reach up to start unbuttoning Sonny’s shirt and Sonny leans them forward so Barba’s on his back with his head on the pillows. He hovers over him, his sweaty hands on the bed on either side of Barba’s face. Barba gets his shirt off his shoulders and Sonny lifts to shake it down his arms, tossing it to the side. They’re still kissing, sloppy and wet. Barba licks at the roof of Sonny’s mouth. It tickles. Sonny moans. He wants desperately to be in the moment but it’s too late: his mind is racing. 

Sonny feels torn in two. Part of him is right there on top of Barba, smelling Barba, hearing Barba’s clothes ruffling and throat rumbling. But another part of him is freaking out. Like he’s been handed a menu that’s too large and he has no idea where he wants to start. 

He slides a hand up Barba’s torso to lightly rest against his neck. He pulls out of the kiss, enough to meet Barba’s eyes. His own search them, looking for any sign of what to do next. Barba’s unreadable. He’s giving Sonny nothing. Of course he is. He’s not sure what he expected. 

“What’s wrong?” Barba breathes. “You’re distracted.”

Sonny smiles wryly. He doesn't know what to say. ‘I never thought you’d waste your time on me?’ ‘I’m going through my mental rolodex of all my best moves so I don’t blow this?’ ‘Why are you even here?!’ Maybe Barba had had a dry spell too. It was hard to trust people in their line of work. Maybe tonight Sonny had simply revealed himself as convenient. 

He goes with: “I didn’t think I was your type.”

Barba furrows his brows and reaches forward to smooth his hands over Sonny’s bare chest. “My type?”

“Yeah,” Sonny says. He’s regretting talking. He wants to _do_ , not babble. He leans back on his knees and starts to unbutton Barba’s shirt. He gets all the buttons undone and Barba sits up to shrug the shirt off, slipping it down the side of the bed. Now they’re both shirtless. Sonny thinks the contrast of their skin tones is something else. Barba’s got some chest hair that Sonny doesn’t have. Barba’s nipples are dark. Sonny rubs them both softly with his thumbs, which makes Barba hum. It’s too tender of a move for what this is, but Sonny’s already obsessed with this body. Barba -- out of his suit, breathing hard, hair rumpled -- is frustratingly attractive. 

Barba’s hands keep running up and down Sonny’s arms, back to his shoulders, his back, his chest. 

“An hour ago you didn’t know I was gay, now you think you’re not my type?” He teases. “I should be the one wondering if I’m your type, detective.”

“I don’t have a type,” Sonny replies for lack of anything more intelligent to say.

Barba rolls his eyes. “Should I be offended?”

Sonny swallows, scooting his legs back so he’s more lying on top of Barba than sitting. He really doesn’t want to talk anymore so he leans down and licks a stripe from the base of Barba’s neck to under his ear, tipping the other man’s head back. He drops his hips and grinds them up against Barba’s, undulating them in an unmistakable implication. Barba groans and tenses up, moving against him, with him. He doesn’t know if Barba’s a bottom or a switch or what. Not that he thinks they’ll fuck tonight. But maybe they will? Sonny really needs to get out of his own head. 

Barba hands come to rest on the hair on the back of Sonny’s neck and he tugs a little. Sonny scrapes his teeth across Barba’s throat.

“Yeah,” Barba says. “That’s good. With the teeth.”

The praise assuages some of Sonny’s anxiety. He slides his hands down his sides to Barba’s waistband and then meets them over his belt, which he undoes. He pauses at the top button of his dress pants. Barba cants his hips up, urging him on with it. Sonny bites the spot between his neck and his shoulder. Barba groans again. Sonny grinds down on him. 

“Are we gonna dry hump all night, detective?” Barba hisses through gritted teeth. The remark brings Sonny back to reality. But rather than make Barba seem untouchable, the joke has the opposite effect. It occurs to Sonny then that _Barba_ might feel insecure too. Maybe he thinks Sonny is just experimenting or using him. Sonny thinks about how best to not seem straight to the guy you’re trying to have sex with. 

“You having a bad time?” He drawls, unbuttoning Barba’s slacks and getting the zipper down one-handed. He reaches into Barba’s pants and finds his erection. “Doesn’t feel like it.”

Barba snorts like he always does when Sonny manages a comeback, moving his hips against Sonny’s hand. Sonny feels some semblance of control. He’s desperate to hold onto it, even though he knows with Barba there’s a slim chance of that.

Barba reaches down and shimmies out of his pants. When Sonny sits back to pull them off, Barba takes them from his hands, folds them and sets them on the nightstand. Sonny rolls his eyes as he stands and undoes his own pants, shoving them down his hips and thighs and clumsily stepping out of them, purposefully leaving them in a pile on the floor. Barba scowls. 

Sonny smirks, crawling back on the bed, up to Barba who is lying against the pillows. Sonny uses his height to lord over Barba, leaning down and kissing him again. Barba’s mouth opens for him. He moves his hands up to Barba’s arms, sliding them up to his wrists and gripping, pushing them experimentally down on the bed beside Barba’s body. Barba hums as if to say, “Well, look at you.” Sonny’s about done with his sass.

He scoots down and places his mouth right over Barba’s dick in his black boxer briefs, mouthing around his erection, open lips, breathing hot. Barba smells good. Musky and like expensive body wash. He nuzzles with his whole face, greedy for it and showing off. He can feel Barba looking down at him. He can feel him getting harder. His hands are still firmly around Barba’s wrists. Barba fights against them and Sonny removes them just to slowly pull down the waistband of his underwear. Barba’s cock springs free, slapping back against his stomach. He’s average size, but thick. Sonny loves it just like he loved his chest. He is so fucked. He’s not even thinking when he immediately leans up and forward and puts the whole thing in his mouth.

Barba throws his head back. “Yeah,” he sighs. “There you go.”

Sonny hums now, bringing a hand around to jerk Barba off a little into his mouth. He tightens his grip and the circle of his mouth, sucking. Barba rolls his hips up and down. Fingers thread through Sonny’s hair.

“Si, asi, asi,” Barba says. “Use a little teeth.”

Sonny does, lightly scraping his front teeth against the side of Barba’s dick and Barba fists Sonny’s hair and his legs tense up, pushing his feet into the mattress. He curses some more in Spanish and Sonny moves back to swirl his tongue all around the tip, leaving a trail of saliva, some of which runs down his chin. Blowjobs he can do, he thinks. He knows how to make these good, but he wants it to be good specifically for Barba. He tries a few different moves listening closely to what makes Barba make the most noise. He moves his hand up and down slow, lightly licking around the head and that seems to be what’s doing it for the other man.

“Fuck, Sonny,” Barba says. Sonny thinks he sounds a little surprised. Sonny likes impressing him. It feels like whenever Barba would concede Sonny was right in the squad room or in his office. It’s probably perverse to compare the two, but it gives Sonny the same sort of thrill. He’ll have to worry about that later. Sonny keeps up a steady rhythm until Barba is trembling, opening and closing both the fist next to his thigh and the one in Sonny’s hair, his fingernails pleasantly scraping Sonny’s scalp.

——

Rafael blinks sweat from his eyes and leans his head forward so he can both see and hear Sonny moaning around his cock while he keeps his hand moving steadily up and down. It occurs to him to wonder how many times Carisi has done this. When had he first done this? Had he ever previously thought about doing this for Rafael? 

He knows the other man is a little infatuated with him, but he thought it only extended to his position as an ADA, to his notorious prowess as a lawyer. Of course Carisi would follow him around, pepper him with questions, perk up if he heard a legal discussion going on. He was in law school. He was prepping for the bar exam. He also has a personality that reeks of approval seeking. Rafael isn’t sure what Carisi’s home life is like, other than loud, Italian, and full of sisters and cousins. Is his father disapproving and distant? Is there some element of that in this? The thought tweaks at Rafael’s heart a little. He doesn’t want to think Carisi is confusing professional admiration with sexual desire, but it’s not out of the realm of possibility.

He tugs on Carisi’s hair, pulling him away from his dick even as Carisi’s tongue tries to stay on him. It sends a jolt up Rafael’s spine to see how much Carisi wants to keep blowing him but he’s sufficiently freaked himself out, so he drags the other man up and kisses him slowly, trying to regain his bearings.

He breaks the kiss, looking into Carisi’s eyes like the detective had done to him earlier. “Did you want to,” Carisi says, his lips bright red and wet and obscene like some sort of 70s cop porn, “finish in my mouth or…?”

Rafael needs him to shut the fuck up. “Is this…” Rafael says, “Do you want to be doing this?”

Sonny looks at him like he’s speaking Polish. “Um, yes?” He replies, the question mark evident at the end of the sentence. “Do you… not want to?”

Rafael closes his eyes and sighs. When he opens them, Sonny’s blues are looking at him way, way too vulnerably. He looks like an actual cartoon puppy.

“Put those away,” Rafael says and Sonny tilts his head, confused. “The wounded eyes. Put them away.”

Sonny smiles, dipping his head and exaggerating them. Rafael huffs. “I do want to…,” he says, pausing to kiss Sonny softly. “I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around this… uh, turn of events.”

Sonny rubs a hand down Barba’s side, soothing. “Me too, to be honest,” he sighs. “You’re kind of mysterious.” Barba snorts. “And prissy,” Sonny adds.

Barba takes Sonny’s hand and puts it back on his dick, half-hard by now, but still wet. Sonny jerks him slowly. “You think I’m prissy?” Rafael asks.

“I think you always smell good and your clothes are always perfect and your hair is never out of place,” he says all at once in a rush, still touching Rafael maddeningly slow. “It’s hard to imagine someone like that, uh, in a sexual situation.”

Rafael uses one hand to grip hard on Sonny’s bicep which is flexed beautifully as he keeps jacking him off. He could get used to seeing that. 

“But you did imagine it?” He asks, going for broke. He makes a small whimpering sound as he lifts his hips, digging his nails into Sonny’s arm.

Sonny leans down, ghosting breath over Rafael’s lips. “Yeah,” he admits. “Probably way before I should have. I didn’t even really like you, but I thought about it.”

Rafael kisses him hard, turning his body into Sonny’s to get closer, to feel more of his heat, to rub their skin together. “You’re a pervert,” Rafael says. “Someone should alert SVU.”

Sonny laughs. “Can you shut the hell up and let me make you come?” His smile is full-on dimples and his eyes are small but shining. Rafael thinks it looks good on him. He hasn’t seen this expression on Sonny’s face enough. Rafael says nothing, purposefully. Part of the joke. So Sonny detangles himself from Rafael’s grasp and slides back down his body, putting his mouth over where his fist is around the bottom of Rafael’s dick.

From above, Rafael admires the way the detective’s graying hair has fallen loose around his temples. The way his own cock looks sliding in and out of Sonny’s mouth. 

Remembering how to please as always, Sonny tickles a bit with his teeth and Rafael throws his head back and moans. It’s an uncontrolled response. His first of the evening. It seems to spur Sonny on and he moves faster and faster until Rafael is panting and clenching his fists at his sides and making all sorts of noises and Spanish ramblings he knows he’s going to be embarrassed about later.

He taps Sonny’s head twice and manages to hiss out, “I’m about to come,” and then he is and Sonny doesn’t let up, swallowing around him twice, three times, four times before Rafael has to tug his ear and call him off.

Sonny climbs up the side of the bed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Rafael feels wrecked. Carisi looks so stupidly pretty, casually wiping come off his lips.

Sonny leans over and kisses him, smoothing down some of Rafael’s hair in the process.

“How was that?” Sonny asks, immediately. Because of course he does. Rafael chuckles, catching his breath. He feels a dark desire to withhold. He’s let Carisi see more of him tonight than he feels comfortable with and it hasn’t even been that intimate. It just… feels more intimate somehow. It isn’t monumental or anything but it doesn’t feel quite casual. He wonders if anything about Carisi has ever been casual. 

“It was good,” Rafael says. “Not your first time.”

“No,” Sonny shakes his head but doesn’t elaborate.

Rafael looks at him, taking in his flush and his sweat and how built Sonny actually is. Christ, his chest. His arms. The V of his waist. He’s in better shape than Rafael is. He’s glad he outclasses him in other ways or else he’d start to feel even more insecure. “Now who’s mysterious?” He teases.

Sonny runs a hand through his own hair, looking, for the love of God, embarrassed. “Ah,” he says. “I said you could ask me questions tomorrow. Not right now.”

Barba hums and scoots himself until he’s sitting up. He gestures to Sonny. “Lie down then,” he says.

——

Sonny leans back onto the bed in just his blue boxer shorts, sitting up against the headboard. He watches Barba watch him. The dim lamp lighting of the hotel room makes Barba look golden somehow. Bronzed. His dark stubble paints his jawline. His hair, the hair Sonny had rambled about being perfect, is undone, loose on his forehead. His hips dip into strong, muscular legs so unlike Sonny’s own long limbs. Sonny even likes his feet. Barba just looks… good. He always looks good. But now, Sonny feels like he’s pulled back another layer and Barba is just… he’s just impossibly hot.

“You’re really hot,” Sonny says, thoughts flying out of his mouth immediately into stilted sentences. Barba sort of ducks his head and Sonny thinks maybe he’s blushing but it’s hard to tell. “Are you blushing?”

“I’m Cuban,” Barba snaps back. “We don’t blush.” He drags the palm of a hand up from Sonny’s waist to his neck, watching Sonny lean into it, closing his eyes and preening under Rafael’s attention.

“What do you want?” Rafael whispers. “Do you want me to touch you?”

Sonny bends and kisses him, open-mouthed. He brings his hands to Barba’s waist and pulls him to straddle him, sitting his bare ass on Sonny’s clothed erection. He moves his hips up, pressing himself against Barba. Barba drops his face into Sonny’s neck and groans. Sonny tightens his hands on Barba’s hips, bringing them around to his back a little to get more leverage. He grinds his body up, just as he moves Barba’s down and his cock slides perfectly back and forth a few times. Barba’s hands tighten on Sonny’s biceps and Sonny flexes again. He can’t help himself.

“Are you still flexing?” Barba huffs. Sonny flexes again, grinding himself harder against the other man. He wants to fuck him, but he doesn’t think that’s happening tonight. Barba mouths along his jawline. “Take your shorts off,” he says. He lifts himself and Sonny shimmies out of his boxers. His dick stands against his stomach and he can feel Barba looking at him. Self-consciously, Sonny reaches down and strokes himself a few times — sort of out of habit. Barba just stares. 

“What?” Sonny whispers. 

“Nothing,” Barba says. “Keep going.”

Sonny shivers. Oh, that’s _thrilling_. He leans his head back and starts jacking himself off with Barba sitting over him, watching. He gets a particularly good rhythm going and his chest puffs and falls and he’s moaning and sighing with his eyes closed. He can hear Barba’s breathing speed up. After a few minutes, he opens his eyes and finds Barba’s are still locked on him, taking in every part of him. Staring lines into each of his abs and bones and pores. He’s incredibly exposed. 

“How does it feel?” Barba asks.

Sonny groans and chuckles, “How do you think?”

But Barba doesn’t laugh. He just keeps staring. His face is cold. He’s got that same look he’d often shoot Sonny when the detective started mapping out a theory on a case. ‘Impress me,’ it said. Oh, that… that does something to Sonny.

“I think you can do better than that,” Barba says. His voice doesn’t waver but Sonny can tell he’s testing the waters.

A hole opens up in the pit of his stomach where he thinks all of Barba’s approval should go but he gathers himself enough to meet Barba’s eyes and keep touching himself slowly, taking his time with long strokes. Drawing it out. Barba’s face remains the same but his eyes ignite as he leans back, sweeping his whole gaze over all of Sonny’s body over and over again.

Sonny lolls his head to the side and pants, putting on a show. He lifts one of his arms over his head to grip the headboard, elbow jutted out. He bows his back. 

“Good boy,” Barba says. Sonny feels him lift off his thighs and then he’s on the bed next to Sonny, opening his mouth to press wet kisses to Sonny’s pelvis. Sonny hisses.

Barba noses Sonny’s hand away and replaces it with his own, circling his fist around Sonny’s cock and jerking him faster than he was going on himself. 

“Oh, shit,” Sonny says. The hand on the headboard comes down to make a fist in his mouth but he moans around it anyway. Barba pulls off him and stops moving his hand until Sonny opens his eyes. He blinks, confused as to why the other man’s stopped.

“Take your hand out of your mouth,” Barba says. “I want to hear you.”

It’s so fucking _sexy_. Sonny’s heart thumps wildly as Barba leans over him and swirls his tongue around the top of Sonny’s dick. He keeps pumping his hand with the same quick, precise strokes and he starts sucking. Sonny lets out a moan that ends on a high-pitched note. “Oh fuck, Barba, Jesus Christ,” he babbles but he guesses that’s fine since Barba wants to hear him. Jesus fuck.

He keeps his head up, watching Barba move between his legs. It’s still the most surreal thing in the world to see Barba in this context. He half-expected the guy to have a pocket square sewed into his pecs, but now he just… He’s blowing Sonny. His knees rub on the hotel comforter and his knuckles are covered in his own saliva and he smells like bodies and sweat and his lips are stretched into a familiar shape and his moves are practiced. It makes Sonny think about the sex Barba must have been having when they were working together. Who was it with? What was it like? How did he meet the people he deemed worthy? When they went over files late at night together in his office, did he ever think about getting on his knees for Sonny?

“God,” Sonny groans, lost in both the train of thought and in the pulsing warmth around his dick. Barba feels incredible. He just does not let up. A perfectionist in all places. Barba swallows him down further and hums in pleasure. He’s enjoying himself. He’s enjoying Sonny’s cock. Savoring it. The realization hits him like a flamethrower and his entire body goes hot. Barba is like, _into_ his dick.

“I’m gonna come,” he says, pulling on Barba’s hair. Barba looks up at him and drops his mouth down further, loosening his jaw. Then, he takes one hand and brings it around to Sonny’s ass, pushing his hips up. Sonny moves on instinct, the head of his cock bypassing Barba’s throat.

“Oh god, oh fuck Rafael,” he heaves and Barba moves back, jerking Sonny off onto his own stomach. He comes hard. It’s everywhere. Up to Sonny’s chest, around his navel and in his happy trail. Barba smirks as more droplets spill out down the sides of Sonny’s hips and the creases of his thighs. It’s a mess.

“Been a while, huh?” He teases, swooping a finger into the wetness and bringing it up to his lips, tasting it while Sonny just stares at him, dumbfounded.

He leans over Sonny’s body and kisses him sloppily, ending the kiss only to say against Sonny’s lips: “You look good covered in come. It suits you.”

Sonny laughs. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he says as Barba makes his way down to bite his shoulder.

“It’d look even better on your face,” Barba murmurs into his neck. Sonny’s cock twitches and he knows Barba feels it because he can also feel him smile into his skin.

“Oh, you are a pervert,” he says. Sonny starts to protest but then Barba sits up and kisses him quiet. 

When they part, Sonny runs a hand through the hair on the back of Barba’s neck. “This is really…”

“Weird?” Barba supplies. Sonny nods.

“Not in a bad way though,” he quickly adds. “It’s like, you know, one of your crazy jerk off fantasies basically coming true.”

Barba rolls off him and grabs the cup with his remaining Jim Beam. “You had a jerk off fantasy about blowing me in a hotel room?” 

Sonny swats at his shoulder with the back of his hand. “I just mean, it feels… far-fetched. I just never thought…”

“Did you think I was a monk or something?” Barba asks.

“No,” Sonny replies. “It’s… we don’t have to talk about it now.”

Barba nods, letting the conversation go. He sits up on the edge of the bed and finishes his drink, setting the cup on the night stand and pulling his phone out from the pocket of his folded pants.

“What are you doing?” Sonny asks, stretching out on the sheets.

——

When Rafael turns to look at him, he almost drops his phone. Sonny is naked on the hotel sheets, spread out with his long legs in front of him and his arms behind his head. His face is sleepy and his hair is mussed and his chest is flushed and there's still some come drying in his happy trail. He's not even doing it on purpose. It occurs to Rafael that Carisi may be one of the best looking men he’s ever slept with.

“I’m calling a car,” he says, bringing his eyes back down to his phone.

“Don’t do that,” Sonny says. “I’ll worry about you. Just stay here.”

“I can fend for myself in a taxi, Carisi,” he replies. Sonny rolls his eyes.

“I’m not going to try and cuddle you,” he scoots over, giving Rafael space on the other side of the bed. “Just hang out. We’ll fall asleep and I’ll drive you back tomorrow.” He shoots Barba a look. He’s already growing more of a backbone. He’s started realizing he might actually have some power. Normally, Rafael would have shut that shit down immediately, but he’s too tired and this is too _Carisi_ for him to care.


	3. The Apartment Hook-Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I was going to offer you a drink,” Rafael says. “But if you’d rather just start stripping, I won’t stop you.”
> 
> Sonny turns around and blushes, ducking his head. “Long day. I need to get out of these work clothes,” he says simply. 
> 
> Rafael crowds into his space, placing each hand gently on one of Sonny’s hips. “And I’d love to help you with that,” he whispers.

Since dropping Rafael off at his place early Sunday morning, Sonny hasn’t heard from him. That morning after the wedding, they’d gotten up and gotten dressed, both acting like this was all perfectly normal. They’d barely talked on the ride into the city even though Sonny had told Rafael he could ask whatever he wanted the night before. Maybe that was a good thing. They were both too hungover just then for interrogations. Plus, Sonny wasn’t sure he wanted to answer what he’s also sure Barba must be wondering. Maybe he was projecting. Maybe Barba wasn’t wondering anything at all. Maybe Sonny was presuming he was more interesting to the former ADA than he actually was. Back in Manhattan, Rafael had leaned over and sleepily pecked him on the lips before getting out of Sonny’s truck. 

It’s been five days since then and still nothing.

So that Friday evening, the squad goes out for happy hour and Sonny has a couple beers and finally just bites the bullet.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” Sonny texts him, hiding his phone under the wooden table of the cop dive they’re all currently sitting in.

He’s not lying. This secret’s been eating at him. Amanda’s honeymoon at Niagra Falls isn’t until next week so she and Al both immediately went back to work post-wedding. He’s had to sit across from her for five days and not mention what happened between him and Barba at the hotel after her wedding. Barba. Their Barba! The guy they used to regularly bitch about at this very bar. The guy he’s seen Amanda more than once hang up with, only to murmur, “Fucking dick” under her breath. The guy who killed a baby so to speak and left them all in the lurch with some new ADA who did end up becoming Sonny’s friend, but still. It’s the principle of the decision. “Oh, by the way,” Sonny thinks every time he looks at her, “I sucked Barba’s dick.”

The sentence still seems outlandish. He wants to tell someone because right now it still doesn’t register as real. Maybe it was a vivid dream. Maybe he’s misremembering parts. Maybe it was just a one-off thing that’ll never happen again. 

But also, having this huge of a secret is thrilling. He can’t stop the anxious, boiling feeling rushing through his blood when he thinks about it. When he walks around the squad room, every step is screaming, “I slept with Barba!” He can’t look at Liv without thinking it. He can’t hand out donuts without thinking it. Sometimes he’ll forget for a minute and then boom, he’ll zone out at his computer and he’s thinking about it again. That really happened, he’ll think. And no one even knows.

Back at the bar, Sonny looks down at his phone as Fin and Amanda argue about basketball. He has a message.

“Really?” Rafael has written back. “I haven’t heard from you.”

Sonny uses one thumb to type: “I haven’t heard from u either.”

As soon as it sends, the three bubbles indicating typing pop up. “Where are you?” Rafael asks.

“Sonny!” Amanda yells, a little more in the bag than the rest of the group. “Who are you texting?”

“Bella,” he lies, easily. He always has a sister to cover for anything he doesn’t want to talk about. “I think Tommy’s working late and she needs help with the baby.”

Amanda rolls her eyes. “You know, you keep doing all this stuff for your sisters and you’re never gonna meet somebody.”

Sonny laughs, turning his locked phone over in his hand. “Look at her,” he says to Fin and Liv. “She’s been married for a week and she thinks she knows everything.” They laugh. Sonny holds his phone close to his face and looks at the screen. He has enough time to type: “Out.”

Amanda smacks Liv’s arm with the back of her hand. “Come on, tell him. He needs to date more.” Liv smiles into her red wine. “I think Carisi can take care of himself,” she says. For a brief moment, he wonders if she knows. But he doesn’t think she does. But she might. He can’t read her.

“I think that’s what Amanda’s worried about,” Fin jokes. Sonny rolls his eyes. While they laugh, he sneaks a peek at his phone. Barba has written back: “Come over.”

Sonny stands immediately, grabbing his coat. He pulls cash from his wallet and throws it down on the table.

As he leaves, he can hear Amanda tell Liv, “We’ve got to find that boy somebody.”

—

Rafael leans into the intercom and tells Marty the doorman he can let Sonny up. Then, he patters back into the kitchen to grab his tumbler of scotch and drops his body onto one of the high chairs at the island. He’s in a black t-shirt and jeans, no shoes or socks, and the counter is covered in papers and pamphlets. He’s considering taking a teaching position but he has a lot to go over before he does that. It’s not the most prestigious situation given what he’d done but his actions don’t make him uninteresting to schools in terms of legal precedent. Still, he isn’t ready to make a big career decision yet. He wants to emotionally marinate for a while.

Then, there’s a knock on the door. Rafael stands to open it, leaving his drink in front of where he’d been seated. He looks in the peephole. It’s Carisi, of course.

When he opens the door, the other man is standing in his work clothes — a grayish suit today with a blue shirt and blue dotted tie. The fabric is tight and the color is designed to make his eyes pop. Someone must have told him that years ago and he’s stuck with it. Maybe an old girlfriend. Maybe just his mother. Rafael takes him in, purely as an observer and not someone who knows him and he’s just… striking. Tall. Lean. Intimidating almost with how severe and strong his nose and jaw are. Or he would be except for the way he’s wringing his hands together in front of him.

“Hey,” he says. Rafael smiles and gestures him inside. The kitchen is closest to the door so when Carisi comes in and takes off his jacket, he places it over one of the tall chairs in the island. His tie is loosened already, probably done on the way over. He pulls it off and lays it on top of his jacket. He unbuttons his shirt down a few buttons.

“I was going to offer you a drink,” Rafael says. “But if you’d rather just start stripping, I won’t stop you.”

Sonny turns around and blushes, ducking his head. “Long day. I need to get out of these work clothes,” he says simply. 

Rafael crowds into his space, placing each hand gently on one of Sonny’s hips. “And I’d love to help you with that,” he whispers.

Sonny smiles into a snort like he can’t believe how cheesy Rafael is being but when Rafael touches him, he’s trembling a little. Nervous. ‘Fascinating,’ Rafael thinks. Is he nervous because of Rafael or because of where they find themselves? He doesn’t know. He leans up and kisses Sonny on the mouth, open and hungry. Sonny falls into it like he’s been waiting for years instead of just minutes. Rafael puts a hand behind Sonny’s head, threading his fingers through his hair. 

They’re making out in earnest, but Rafael can hear and feel the gears turning in Sonny’s head just like last time, so he pulls away, pushing his back against the table, staying close. He slowly unbuttons Sonny’s shirt all the way until Sonny shrugs it off his shoulders. He’s got an undershirt on, which he automatically pulls over his head. Both shirts end up on the floor. 

He may never get over this. Carisi’s body is insane. He must work out all the time. Rafael runs his hands over his chest, tracing each ab and rib and pec. If he’s going to sleep with someone ten years younger and who looks like this, he’s going to make the most of it. Carisi’s still shaking a little, his pale skin fluttering under Rafael’s hands. When he looks up, Sonny is biting his bottom lip from pink to red.

“What do you want to do?” Rafael asks. He slides a hand up, lightly resting it around the front of Sonny’s throat, stroking the skin of his neck with his forefinger and thumb — nothing serious, just toying with ideas, and he asks again, his voice lower, “What do you like?”

Sonny groans. But he doesn’t answer right away, nervously running his own fingers slowly along the top of the waistband of Rafael’s jeans. Rafael waits. Finally, Sonny says, “I… No one’s ever asked me that before.”

Rafael’s eyebrows shoot up. Then, his face settles into something positively predatory. “No one’s ever asked you what you like in bed?” He teases. “Carisi, I’m disappointed in you. Isn’t that consent 101?”

Sonny rolls his eyes. “You know what I mean,” he says. He brings one hand up and circles one of Rafael’s wrists, then tightens his fingers around it hard. Rafael can’t hold back a little gasp. Not bad. Impressive, even. Especially for Carisi. Sonny says, “I want to do whatever you want. I like whatever makes you come.”

Rafael sighs. The detective wants him to give him a test he can pass. He wants Rafael to set up a challenge so he can rise to meet it. He’s not even sure if Carisi is doing this consciously or if this is just always his feeling when it comes to Rafael, but it’s certainly familiar in ways outside of sexual. _Am I right, counselor?_ Rafael hears over and over in his head.

Rafael lets Sonny keep holding his wrist, doesn’t twist out of his grasp and leans his entire body forward onto the other man’s space, slotting their hips together. Carisi is hardening. So is he. He looks him dead in the eye and says, “I’d like you to fuck me and I’d like you to be rough. Can you do that?”

He watches Carisi’s Adam’s apple shoot up and down as he swallows. For a moment, Rafael thinks maybe he’s misread Carisi or maybe he’s asked too much of him. It’s one thing for him to mess around with men, it’s another to presume Mr. Good Catholic Boy is up for this. 

“I can do that,” Sonny says, leaning down to kiss Rafael hard. 

“And no more ‘Barba.’ I’d like you to call me Rafael,” he adds when they pull apart. 

——

Barba’s bed smells so much like him that Sonny feels like he’s drowning in it. He’s surrounded. Barba is under him, Barba’s skin is bare, Barba’s hair smells like his pillows, which smell like his clothes. He knows that’s partially because of how meticulous Barba is about everything, down to the types of cologne and detergent he must use, but he also knows it’s pheromones. There’s chemistry here. They’re steeped in it. He’s known it for a while, but he thought it was all one-sided. Knowing Barba’s gay, Sonny’s still concluded this is probably all physical for him. He’s not sure he disagrees, knowing their personalities. He’s not against that being the case.

When he’d occasionally imagined fucking Rafael, the fantasy had always been the same. Wiping the pristine demeanor and asshole smirk off the other man’s face. Fucking him quiet. It was one of Sonny’s darker ones. In general, that kind of stuff wasn’t usually what got him hot. It was hard for it to with what his day job was. What he and Barba worked on together. But he also knew what Rafael had asked him for in the kitchen wasn’t the same animal. Not at all.

They’re both naked, having shed their clothes on the way to the bedroom. Sonny’s hands run from Rafael’s sides up and down to his ass and back. He’s smaller than him, and Sonny’s legs take up much more room on the bed than Rafael’s. He feels a little gangly, settled between the other man’s strong, thick thighs. Their cocks rub together as Sonny moves slowly back and forth, running his teeth along Barba’s neck. He remembers he likes that. 

Rafael pushes Sonny back by his chest until they’re looking at each other. He seems to be considering him intently. 

“A few things,” Barba says. “I’m trusting you.” Sonny waits for him to say more but he doesn’t so Sonny nods. “I’d like to keep this private.”

“I understand,” he replies. “So am I… trusting you, I mean.”

Rafael continues, “Anything you’re uncomfortable with, you tell me.” 

“Of course,” Sonny says. “Same.”

Rafael smirks a little and Sonny wonders what that’s about but he figures it’s one of those things where Rafael finds something he did amusing for a reason Sonny will never get. He puts a hand on Sonny’s cheek.

“Is it all right if I call you ‘Dominick’?” He asks. Sonny makes a face but shrugs. “Sure,” he says. “Like you said, no more ‘Carisi.’ And if Sonny is too—“

“It is,” Rafael cuts him off. Sonny rolls his eyes.

The hand on his cheek moves down to the side of his neck. “I don’t… go into things like this lightly. Not with people I know.”

“Me either,” Sonny says. Rafael’s eyes are still searching, reading him, figuring him out.

“How many men have you been with?” He asks. 

Sonny blinks at him. “I told you I’m not straight.”

“That’s not what I asked,” he replies. Sonny suddenly remembers why all of his Rafael Barba fantasies were hate-fucks.

“I’m on top of you, naked, and you want a full run down of every dick I’ve sucked?” He bites back. Rafael studies him for a minute and then laughs softly.

“I’m not against it,” he says, raising one eyebrow. “Maybe just the highlights.” He reaches down and starts stroking his cock lazily, keeping his eyes on Sonny’s face.

“Oh,” Sonny says. He can feel Rafael’s hand moving, the knuckles brushing against his own dick as he does. He thrusts forward. “God, of course. You’re impossible.”

“I _know_ ,” Rafael says, voice dripping with a teasing sensuality that wasn’t there before. “Someone should really do something about it.”

——

And suddenly, there’s what he was hoping for. Sonny grabs Rafael’s left wrist, pinning it above his head, pushing it hard into the pillow. He towers above him. Rafael cants his hips. Sonny hesitates. Rafael, ever looking for the upper hand, leans his head up and brushes his lips over Sonny’s once, twice, slowly. Their breath mingles.

“Come on, Dominick,” he says. “Fuck me up.”

Sonny groans. Rafael loves it. There’s something so heady about messing with Carisi. It lights a dark spark in Rafael’s stomach. He’d have bet one of his more expensive ties that no one had ever talked to the other man this way, not with intention or authority — and he would have been right, it appears. No one had the shrewd-enough instinct to know what to do to make Sonny crazy. To see his potential. Rafael had sensed it from the beginning. Someone just had to open the door. Someone had to give him permission. Someone had to unlock the years of religion. But it doesn’t seem like Sonny has any misgivings.

Sonny uses one arm to drag Rafael’s body closer as Rafael’s thighs fall open around his waist. He hoists him so his knees are spread wide on either side of Sonny’s body. It makes Rafael feel small and overpowered and taken. He guesses it’s a really good move on a woman. It’s a really good move on anyone really.

Rafael’s about to make another snide remark when suddenly he catches Sonny’s muscles moving and then Rafael’s other arm is above his head too, both his wrists quickly caught in just one of Sonny’s fists. It’s tight. He actually couldn’t get away if he wanted to, not that he wants to. Sonny’s strong enough to keep him still with one arm. Hot. Rafael huffs out a breath.

He reaches with his other hand and strokes Rafael’s cock hard. He presses down on him. His fist around Rafael’s wrists is going to leave marks.

“Is this okay?” Sonny asks. Rafael rolls his eyes but he secretly appreciates the thorough double-checking. How could he not? He knows better. They both do.

“Have I said no?” Rafael replies. Sonny’s eyes fall closed and he looks like it’s taking a lot for him not to lose focus. Rafael leans up and bites at Sonny’s throat. A small quick nip. Sonny’s eyes fly open. “Come on,” Rafael says, using the side of one foot to stroke along the back of Sonny’s thigh. “What have you always wanted to do to me?”

Their eyes meet. Rafael feels strangely vulnerable. Open. He’s implying a lot. Taking a risk. He doesn’t necessarily know how long Sonny’s considered him sexually. It seems like he thought Rafael was some sort of asexual being, at least until recently. Or that he pined for Liv, alone and bitter. 

Then again, he hadn’t ever really considered that anything could happen between him and Sonny either. A year ago this would have seemed ludicrous. Now, he wants nothing more than for the other man to rise to his challenge in an entirely different way than when he pushed him in his legal training, when he was “hard on him” as Carisi had so elegantly put it. And why had he been? Maybe the eagerness had taken him by surprise. Maybe he felt uncomfortable with the hero worship from a presumably straight man. Maybe he’d simply underestimated him. This man, as far as he’d always known, was deeply Catholic. It was one thing to be with men, it was another to be with them casually, or be with them like this. He suspects Carisi is being entirely driven by lust or curiosity here. He still has so many questions. But it’s also thrilling to see what he can wring out of the detective. It always has been, he admits.

Sonny quickens his grip around Rafael’s cock, using his thumb to gather precome there. He releases Rafael’s wrists and sits back, up on his legs. Rafael can finally see that Sonny is very hard. Rafael waits. Watching him.

Sonny crooks a finger at him. “C’mere,” he says. Rafael lifts on his hands, flips himself, and crawls forward, his head close to Sonny’s lap. Sonny grabs the back of Rafael’s hair and pulls his face closer. He uses his other hand to hold the base of his own dick. Slowly, he guides the tip around Rafael’s face, smearing wetness around his lips, his cheeks, his chin. Rafael looks up at Sonny and finds he’s already looking down at him. Sonny’s face is stunned.

“You like that?” He asks. If this were anyone else, Rafael would think he was speaking out of ego, but Rafael knows Sonny is actually asking in disbelief.

Rafael lets his lips fall open a little and Sonny gently slaps the tip of his cock up and down, back and forth against them. 

——

Sonny feels drunk. He’s overheated. He’s so turned on. If this situation with Rafael felt surreal before, it’s taken on a whole new ethereal quality. Sonny’s not a prude by any means, but he’s never really played like this. He’s never really wanted to with women, and with men, it’s never gotten that deep, that personal, that intimate. He also feels a twinge of Catholic guilt. It feels so pornographic. Wrong.

Barba. Their Barba. Has his neck bent in submission and is just letting Sonny… do this to him. Dirty up his perfect face. He’s sticking his tongue out, swirling it around the head, lavishing it with attention. At the risk of being crude, Sonny can’t get enough of how much Barba loves dick. Maybe his dick. Maybe just all dick. Sonny is jealous. Barba must have known he was gay for a long, long time. Had all sorts of experiences to come to terms with it. Meanwhile, Sonny had come to his own proclivities slowly — not until his early 30s. He’s repressed a lot of it forever and he’s still tentative, to be honest. Still trying to figure out where Catholicism intersected with himself as a modern man. His talk with Father Eugene wasn’t entirely manipulation, more true than he’d care to think about.

Rafael tilts his head and lowers his mouth, sucking on Sonny’s balls with his eyes closed, humming. Sonny grips his cock at the base to try and get a handle on himself. Rafael feels so fucking good. He’s so caught up in what he’s doing to Sonny, like there’s nowhere else in the world he’d rather be. 

“Fuck,” Sonny said, running his hand through Barba’s hair. “You’re filthy. I never would have thought—“

Rafael pulls off him, bringing his mouth up to kiss Sonny, replacing it with his hand sliding up and down Sonny’s cock.

“Please fuck me,” Rafael says simply, as they break apart. He leans over to the side, opening a drawer and pulling out a half-empty bottle of lube and a condom. He tosses them on the bed closest to Sonny. Sonny looks down at it. The hesitation is minimal.

He grabs Barba’s hips and spins his body, pressing him facedown into the mattress. He straddles Barba’s thighs, pushing his cock into the small of his back and rubbing. “Not yet,” Sonny says. He leans his body up, getting a hand in the middle of Barba’s shoulder blades as leverage. He lowers himself, sliding his pre-come wet cock against Rafael’s ass. “I think you should ask me real nicely.”

Rafael snorts. “I don’t beg, Dominick.”

“You do now,” Sonny replies, moving his hips and using his other hand to open Rafael up to get his dick between his asscheeks. His thumb digs into the flesh next to his hole. It’s turning Rafael’s otherwise brown skin white with the force of it.

Even as he speaks, he’s reaching for the lube and covering his first two fingers with it. He drags one finger down Rafael’s hole, slowly — up and down. His other hand holds Rafael down by his hip. Rafael pushes back against him. He flutters. Sonny almost swallows his own tongue. It looks so, so good. He regrets asking Barba to beg. He’s the one who feels like begging.

“You’re so pretty,” he says before he can stop himself. He has the instinct to put his mouth on Rafael but there’s already lube there. He decides instead to push one finger inside. Rafael presses his forehead against the pillow and moans. It’s gorgeous. It’s so unlike anything he thought he’d ever hear from the other man.

“God, you always seemed so untouchable to me. I can’t fucking believe you just—“ he babbles. Barba turns his head, but doesn’t open his eyes. 

“Dominick, you can wax poetic about me,” he huffs. “Or you can put another finger inside me but you can’t do both.”

For that, Sonny does put another finger inside him, twisting and scissoring them. Rafael just takes it. Easy. Sonny flushes with the thought of him doing this to himself. Maybe jerking off with something inside himself. Court outfit mostly still on. In this very bed. He adds another finger. Barba shudders. “Up a little,” he instructs and Carisi just does it. He feels embarrassed at how quickly he followed orders, except Rafael makes a high pitched sound that Sonny is going to hear in his fantasies for the rest of his life.

“Fuck me,” Rafael says, in a voice that doesn’t sound unlike the one he uses during cross examinations. The idea makes Sonny’s dick twitch. 

“Yeah?” Sonny breathes. “You want it?” 

“What have I been saying?” Rafael groans.

Sonny rubs his dick against him, teasing. “You can sass all you want, Rafael,” he says. “But you’ve asked for my dick three times already.”

“I’m starting to regret it,” he replies but there’s no bite to it. So Sonny grabs a condom, tearing it open and putting it on, slicking it with lube. Repositioning himself, Sonny quickly begins pressing inside him. He can see Rafael’s hands fisting in the sheets by his head. Open and closed as Sonny slides all the way in. Wow.

“Fuck,” he breathes. “Fuck, fuck. Wow.”

“Yeah,” Rafael says. “Do it. Come on. You can do better than that, Dominick. Give it to me.”

And that’s it. Sonny can’t pretend to be in charge any longer. He can’t play it cool. He grabs Rafael’s hips with both hands and fucks him fast. No stopping. Just pounding him. He’s never done it like this before. He can feel himself leaving bruises. He can hear the slapping of their skin. He looks down and watches his cock against Rafael’s asshole. Rafael is shockingly loud now. Endless noises. Spanish. Total abandon. Sonny can’t believe he’s causing this. He can’t believe he’s got this man out of control like this. He can’t believe the power Barba is giving him. 

But he’s also completely at his mercy. Sonny thinks he’s never going to recover from this. To have someone this powerful, who for so long Sonny viewed as a stuck-up prick in overpriced suits, surrender to someone like him, like this. Intoxicating.

“Angle down,” Barba manages to gasp out and Sonny does and Barba starts shaking. Sonny realizes he’s reached under and is stroking himself hard, matching Sonny’s brutal pace.

“It’s so fucking good,” Sonny moans, throwing his head back. His legs might give out and his thighs are burning but he can’t stop. He feels Rafael shiver once, twice, hard under Sonny’s hands and then he moans broken and loud and Sonny feels him tighten impossibly around him and he’s coming. 

Sonny digs his fingers in, not letting up. Barba keeps shaking under him. “Good boy, Dominick,” he groans. He sounds completely spent. “Make me feel it tomorrow.”

“Ah, ah, ah,” Sonny stutters his hips and then he’s coming. “Oh my fucking god,” he sighs. “Oh fuck. Jesus, fuck.”

He trembles and collapses onto Barba’s back. They’re both sweaty. He only lays there a moment before rolling off him, leaning to the side to toss the used condom in the trash. He stays on his back, and covers his eyes with his hands, elbows out. His chest is heaving. He can’t catch his breath.

“I think I’m dead,” he says. When he opens his eyes, Barba is still on his stomach. He’s looking at him like he’s never seen him before. 

“Who the fuck are you, Dominick Carisi?” He says. 

Sonny shakes his head. “Who are you?!” He replies. 

Rafael sighs.

——

They doze off. It’s midnight when Rafael opens his eyes and they’re still in the same positions. Sonny on his back, Rafael on his stomach. Naked. The room is dark now and he takes a moment to look at Carisi’s silhouette in the light of the open curtains.

Strangely, he wonders what Liv would say about all this. He doesn’t even know really how he feels about it. He never would have thought some uncouth Catholic detective with a terrible accent would look like a trophy in his bed. What had Lisa Hassler called him? “Arm candy.” Rafael feels like a dirty old man. Like one of the high ranking officials he’d see at the governor’s mansion with a 20-something former intern draped over them, laughing at every joke.

Is that what he is? An old man dreaming of his former life? Taking a bright eyed young lawyer to bed out of boredom? He shakes his head. No. That demeans Carisi to think of him that way. The other man is smarter than that. Savvier. What does he want with a broken, disgraced man like Rafael Barba? 

Suddenly, Carisi opens his eyes. He stretches his arms above his head and yawns. He looks over and finds Rafael already looking at him.

“What?” he whispers, sleep evident in his scratchy voice.

“Nothing,” Rafael says, putting off their probably much-needed talk for yet another day. “It’s 12:30. You can stay here,” he says, quietly. 

Sonny hums, “What are you gonna do? Pay for my cab like a gentleman and not call me for another five days?”

Rafael laughs. “I don’t even know where you live. How expensive would that cab be?”

Carisi rolls his eyes. “I’m going to sleep,” he says, turning away from Rafael. Rafael watches his back until he too, falls back asleep.


End file.
